Undecided
by randomusername08
Summary: Bella is struggling to cope with pain and loss...which has driven to her to deep whole.  Jacob helps her,  but its never enough...What will happen when the past that has caused her so much pain returns...?
1. Preface

PREFACE

Beep, beep, beep…The sounds of machines greeted me when I woke up from my slumber. I was on a gurney, not a bed…They didn't anticipate a long time…

_Black…_

Beep, beep, beep…

I had shot him…mercilessly shot him, without blinking…and it made me happy…brought me a kind of satisfaction…

_Black…_

Beep, beep, beep…

I had made Garret promise me that, if a failed in my job, he would shoot me at dawn…

_Black…_

Beep, beep, beep…

Three bullets in and I was running…not to save my life…just to escape… I had given up any attachment to this existence long ago…But I was shot, a bullet fired by a person dying himself…

_Black…_

Beep, beep, beep…

I had loved him…loved him so much that I was ready to give everything for him…but fate didn't agree with me… My happiness was snatched as brutally as ever…

_Black…_

Beep, beep, beep…

Not to long now, just a few more breathes…No! Life couldn't do this to me… She couldn't just leave me now… All I was asking was for a few more borrowed moments of existence… I _would_ have that… I would have the happiness that had spent my whole life searching, but it always kept slipping from my grasp…

So close, yet never mine…  


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**Thanks for reading...**


	2. Chapter 1

CHAPTER _1

I was on the roof of Jacob's apartment building, drunk out of my mind. It was early dawn. The only reason I knew where I was because it wasn't the first time I had ended up here. Whenever I felt alone—or wanted to kill myself—I came out here to seek an ounce of solace in him. When I wanted to drink myself into oblivion, he left me to do it, whenever I wanted to talk—the part I was allowed to talk about at least—he was always there to hear me out. And I loved him for this, he was my best—my only—friend. It was lot in this pitiful life of mine.

Last night too, I had been alone in my apartment, which was in one of shadiest place of Seattle, drinking when I suddenly had the urge to claw my skin off of me. I wanted to peel off me slowly and painfully. This couldn't be normal, could it?

I felt out of control, and I knew if I didn't get out fast I would for sure do something to myself.

So I did the only thing I knew I could in a time as such: I ran to Jacob.

His home wasn't far from mine, but he didn't know that. I wasn't allowed to let anybody of my whereabouts. So I ran; ran with all the might I had, desperate for some relief from this pain.

I stopped when I collided with his door. I pulled myself back a little rang the doorbell frantically. He opened the door quickly, and gathered me in his arms as I had started a descent toward the floor. I didn't realize that while had been running tears had stated streaming down my face. He took in my mess of a state, and his face took on a haunted expression.

He dragged me to the living room, while I tried to shuffle my feet. He set me down on the couch and pulled a comforter over me, I now became aware that I was actually shaking very badly. He put my head in his lap, and stroked my hair. He didn't force me to talk—he never did—and I was grateful for that for I couldn't tell him the whole truth. I didn't want to lie to him.

At some point in the night I had sneaked to the roof, as I did many times, when he had gone to bed. I took a bottle to keep me company. A little later Jacob came up too, carrying sheets and blankets; I smiled drowsily at him, and took another sip. He laid out sheets and I crawled on to them, then he covered me the blanket. I tried for another smile but I didn't know if I was successful. He sat on the old, worn away couch that had been there for who knows how many years.

The last thing I remember before falling asleep were his eyes looking down at me with an intensity that made scared—very scared—because I felt that he could see me.

When I woke this morning, I saw that he had already left—he usually slept on the ancient couch whenever I was up here, which was mow empty.

Still feeling the effect of alcohol I pulled myself to my feet. I swayed precariously on the edge of the roof that had no railing, before catching myself. I hobbled down the stairs, having great difficulty not letting myself hurt me.

I stepped into the living room, the house was silent, further proof that he had left. Good.

I quickly went into the bathroom splashed some cold water on my face, trying to push away the drowsiness and tied my hair in a tight knot. When I was sure I didn't look too much like a junkie from the alley, I stepped out of his house, and into the street.

I was suddenly hit with the feeling that I was being watched. It might have been just paranoia, but it would be stupid to ignore it such a situation.

So I decided that I would not take the usual way home. Instead of walking straight, which would lead me to my home directly and quickly, I turned the opposite side, went around Jacob's house on to the other road that would in no way take me to my apartment. I continued walking; still feeling like someone was following me. After a while of aggressive walking I reached an area that was full of small houses. I could hide here.

I turned around to see if someone was behind, but there was no one, except a flash as I saw a figure dash between two houses.

I kept walking, still not getting rid of the weird feeling. But I was tired now, so ducked into a little space I found hidden between two houses and plastered myself to the wall of one the house, hoping to stay invisible, and trying to control my breathing.

I stayed there for a while, I saw few people walk on the street by me, and then it was quite…for a long time. I decided it was safe to step out now. With my heart pounding, I walked back in to the street and walked to where I had come from. When I got close to Jacob's again on my way back I again decided to take a detour, though I didn't feel like I was being followed, just to be safe.

About the time I reached my apartment the Sun was shining offensively, hurting my eyes. Wanting to hurry inside, I thrusted my key into the lock and shook it open.

Being back—alone—in the apartment again filled me with dread. Needing some comfort I reached for the only thing that had been soothing my aches for years now…

I was lying limp on my bed, surrounded by empty bottles, tears wetting my eyes, when the phone rang.

**You might have noticed that I have made some changes in the story, like there is now a Preface...  
****When I started this writing this I hadn't really planned anything...and I was not too happy with how it was going...what I had written so far...so I started...I wouldn't call re-writing it...but I made some changes...thats why there weren't any updates...  
****There isn't any change in the basic story though... **


	3. Chapter 2

**For those of you who thought that first chapter was not total crap…And also to new readers if we have any… (No changes)**

CHAPTER _2

In some part of my brain I was aware that the phone had been ringing for a long time now. I wanted to get up and answer the damn phone just to get the annoying ringing to stop, but I couldn't bring my body to do it. I even fantasized that I had gotten up and answered the phone when the ringing stopped for a while…but my fantasy was broken when the damned annoying ringing started again.

I tried again to get up, but failed. So I tried again…

I don't know how many tries it took me to drag myself on my two feet, but I finally did, and wretched phone was still ringing away merrily. Supporting my weight with the help of the wall and any furniture on the way, I finally reached the source of my annoyance.

I slammed my hand on the receiver and pulled it out, with half a mind to slam it back again, but stopped and put it to my ears. I glimpsed outside the window, it was dark now. Had the whole day just gone by? I almost wanted to celebrate.

I noticed that I was till holding the phone to my ear, and that nobody had spoken yet.

I rasped out an unintelligible "Hello."

There was a sound of a deep breath being let out, relieved. "Bella…?" Jacob asked hesitantly.

"Yeah."

"Oh thank God. Where have you been? I have been calling you since noon?" That was long time, right? "I would have busted through your door with a throng of cops by now, _if_ I even knew where you lived. But I don't know anything. I don't know where you are, or how you are! Even dead or alive! Why didn't you bother picking up the phone for so long? What were so busy doing that you couldn't spare a little time for a phone call?" His voice sounded furious and frustrated. I should have answered him by now, but honestly I was too damn tired to. But I should now.

"I'm okay," was my brilliant reply.

He let out an angry breath. "Of course, I know _now_ that you're okay. I just would have known it earlier if you had picked up the phone," he yelled through the receiver.

I stayed quite. I didn't know what to say.

On one hand, it was good to see someone caring for me, for once. It warmed my unfeeling heart to see him concerned about me. I wanted him to know that. But on the other I wanted to shake and scream at him for caring. I wanted to yell at him to stop caring about me. I was damaged goods, he was hoping one day could be fixed. But it wasn't like that. I would never be fixed. I would never be able to care for him, the way he did. I couldn't. I couldn't care for anybody now—not even myself.

"I'm sorry," I croaked, not knowing what else top say.

He sighed. "No, _I'm_ sorry. I shouldn't have taken it out on you like that. I was just so worried sick about you. I was driving myself crazy thinking about all the possibilities that could happen to you. That doesn't justify me screaming at you but you know… Just pick up the phone when I call. Okay?" He pleaded.

Though it being a simple thing, I couldn't promise it to him with surety. "I'll try," I said instead, truthfully.

"Hey, Bella," he said hesitantly.

"Yes."

"There was another reason I called you tonight." When I didn't say anything, he went on. "You didn't think I called just to yell at you, did you?" He was aiming for teasing, I think, but it came out with more edge than intended. He was nervous.

"What is it, Jake?"

"Well, you know the club near my house, the one that has just opened?"

I didn't. "Yeah."

"Great. Well…um…well…I am going to play there tonight. Um…would you like to… I mean I would like you to…Ugh! Well, I would like you come hear me play. Will you?"

"Jake," I sighed. "I don't know…"

"Please, Bella. You know as well as I do, that it does you nothing good to be locked up in your apartment whole day, drowning yourself in alcohol," he said sternly, then his voice again took on the persuasive tone. "Please, Bella, I would really like you to come. It would be nice to have friend there to support me."

I didn't want to go and I wasn't going to go, but to placate him I agreed.

"Awesome. I'll see you there at 8. You know the place, right? I could come pick you up." I could feel his excitement and happiness through the phone. But I really didn't want to go.

"I know where it is."

"Okay, I'll see you then. Bye."

I didn't bother with a goodbye, just hung up the phone, and started for the bar.

I was lying face down on the couch when it happened again.

I was attacked by the images

Our little house in Phoenix… Me holding little Vanessa's hand, while she tried to learn to walk… Me teaching her alphabets… She running around the house while I chased after her… Her giggle… The way her face lit up when she saw _him_… Picture after picture of _him…flashes_… _Him only him_… _His_ face, _his_ hair, _his_ eyes… _His_ eyes… _His_ dangerous, haunting eyes…

I woke gasping for breath, my lungs felt constricted, I couldn't pull a breath in. I want to crawl out of my skin…claw it off me… I wanted to get away from here…from everything.

I stumbled off the couch, bumping my head on the table in the process. I pressed the heel of my palm to my head, it wasn't bleeding. I was almost disappointed. Pushing the feeling aside, I pulled myself onto my feet. I didn't pause to look at myself in the mirror, I just dashed for the house key, ran out of the house. I was eager to escape the images that—though not traditionally scary—never failed to terrify me. I walked—though my pace was a little to fast and agitated to be called a walk—toward Jacob's house. I walked blindly toward it, knowing when I reached there; comfort would be within reach.

I reached his door, panting. I assaulted the doorbell, ringing mercilessly—still the door remained closed. After a few futile attempts at knocking the door down, and bruising myself in the process I remembered that Jake was supposed to be performing tonight—he had called to invite me. I looked around, he had seen that the club was near his place. There was nothing similar to a club nearby. I wandered down the street, looking for flashy light, my clumsy feet making it difficult—I stumbled and almost landed face down many times. I wobbled and swayed, looking for somebody who could tell me where the place was. I detected somebody in the shadow of the street, I started toward him. The person was very old, withered, holding a joint in his hand, a bottle of beer at his feet—I almost asked him for one for myself.

"Do you know where the new club that opened around here is?" While asking the directions I realized that I didn't even know the place's name. Did I not remember it, or had Jacob forgotten to tell me?

"Huh?" he said gazing up at me, maybe a little to intently.

"The new place—that's opened around here?" I knew it was futile to ask this man—he couldn't ever know any place, but nonetheless I asked.

He was still staring up at me with a blank, clueless, still disgusting look, when I heard my name being called.

"Bella!"

I turned to see Jacob running toward me—he was panting my name. He was still at distance.

He came to a stop near me, breathing heavily. "Where have you been? I have been waiting for you for so long. I have already sung two songs—about to do last few. Come on!" He took me by the elbow and pulled started pulling me in the right way.

I let myself be dragged, until we reached a building, that rather than looking like a nightclub it looked like a homely get together place…the kind where you would go to have a drink, meet with buddies, play a game of pool and listen to good music. I guess that is where Jake came in. There were all kinds of people here, some old, having came here to relax after a long day at work, some were young, who had come here to hang out with friends...to enjoy. I didn't fit in any category. I was out of place.

"Jake, I thought you said it was a club." I looked down at the clothes I was wearing for the first time. I had a long, black sweater, that came mid-thigh, on. I guess it could double as a dress, and I had my converse on—well, that's not going to change ever. At least I _had_ shoes on.

"Yeah, it is. The kind where you have to be a member." He was leading me up the stairs now.

"Jake…" I whispered but I'm not sure if any sound came out, as I was inside the club now.

Though the exterior should have tipped me off, I was still surprised by interior of the "club" . No flashy, neon lights that hurt your eyes. Instead it was warm, with wooden interiors, dark red leathered booths. A small section of the wooden floor was elevated, which I guessed served as the stage. The bar was near the right of the entrance—it appeared well stocked.

I started toward it.

Slight pressure on arm my made me aware that Jacob was still standing beside me, with a firm grip on my elbow.

"This way, Bella." He had meant to be casual as if just leading me in the right direction, but I detected a tone of heavy disapproval in his voice.

I stumbled behind him as pulled me along to one of the dark leathered booths.

"Sit."

I sat down.

"Just hang around here for a while, okay? Don't lead yourself to the bar"—I frowned—"by mistake, I'm sure." He chuckled. "I have to perform few more song—you're late, I already did a some—and when it's done I'm going to come and get you. Just stay put till then," he emphasized, and then added, "and _listen_"

He sauntered over to the stage, sat down on the high stool and began his song, strumming his guitar.

I listened enraptured, he sang beautifully…his voice felt like he was taking you through a journey...to some place far away... then his voice slowly gave way to the noise of gunshots...

I was aware in some part of my consciousness that I was still in the club, Jacob was still singing…but I couldn't hear a word of if, not a single chord, not a single key—nothing. I was surrounded by the blaring noise of guns being fired, people screaming—some screaming in fear, some screaming orders—but the most important and clear was the sound of that beautiful voice as it screamed in fear for its life.

I looked around me desperately. Sure, I wasn't the only one hearing this pounding, loud noise—others could hear it too. I searched the see of unfamiliar faces before me for any signs of distress, I _knew_ I wouldn't find. Sure enough of most people's eyes were trained on Jacob, who was still singing, but now his eyes were locked on me, his expression one of intense worry and concern. He seemed as if he couldn't get through the song soon enough.

I dashed out of the booth, not caring about the disapproving eyes that turned toward me; reaching the main door, I wrenched it out of way and ran like a maniac, out into the road, until I felt cold air and dew saturating in my hair and forming a cold, calming film on my skin. I slowed down a little, feeling the burn in my lungs. I bent over myself, bracing my palms on my knees. I was panting heavily and felt sick. I tried to control my breathing but my body didn't seem to be in a mood to cooperate with me. I leaned against the railing on the road and slid down against it so I was sitting leaning on it. After a long fight to get my breathing to slow down and push away the sickness in my stomach, I had an ounce of victory. Once I was sure that I wasn't going to throw up, I raised my head from between my knees and looked around. I had known I was on the road but looking around I found that I was actually on bridge, I could now hear the river flowing violently, over the cacophony of the traffic blurring past me. Surveying my surroundings I also realized that I had no idea where I was, or how to get home. I could feel another wave of panic coming, even more fueled by alcohol.

I concentrated on my breathing, put every bit of my might in not panicking. The cars were zooming past me; their horns making a horrible frightening noise as the passed by me.

It was not going to do me any good, just sitting here on the side of the road, I had to get moving. Swaying dizzily, I got up on my feet. I had to clutch the railing to keep myself from falling face first on to the asphalt. I started walking—still clutching the railing—to the direction I _thought_ I had came from. Tripping throughout, I shuffled my feet a good distance, I could almost see the end of the ridiculously long bridge.

I was at the point where bridge met solid ground when I heard my name being called desperately from a distance. The voice was getting closer for I had stopped without realising and he was running toward me.

"Bella!" He was panting, heavily. "Bella! Bella, wait!"

Jeez! I _had_ already stopped!

He reached me heaving for breath. I had taken him to be the fit kind…Guess not.

"God! Bella! What the hell are you doing here? Trying to get yourself killed?"—Definitely _not! _My mind shouted—"Why did you bolt so suddenly?" he heaved out. "I was singing—keeping an eye on you–you were all fine. And then suddenly your face got a funny look, next second I see you're making a mad dash for the door! You were gone just like that!" He shook his head. "I was ready to run after you; mid-song. And I did! I had a few more songs planned for tonight…" He trailed off sadly.

Wow! Nice to know he had made such a big sacrifice for me! I was in his debt now. "Uh-huh."

His breathing got less erratic. "Okay…_Now_ would be a nice time to explain, what are you doing here? In this condition?" He looked disapprovingly over my make-shift dress. I felt very conscious all of a sudden; I had not been too uncomfortable at the club, but here, before him… "And how did you get here, anyway?"

"I ran." I answered the easiest question.

"Oh…You ran…Right…Umm…Well…You know how far you are…?"

"Umm…yeah…?" His reaction was weird.

He looked at my face for a beat; something there must have told him t halt the inquisition because the question stopped.

"Okay. Lets get you home and warm, shall we?" he said quickly.

I nodded.

I trudged limply as he pulled me forward; in the opposite direction of the one I'd been heading for. My arm was wrapped around his waist and his was wrapped around mine; supporting my weight. I rested my head on him.

We crawled a long way, till he hailed a cab and we started for home at much more respectable speed.

It sometime in the middle of the ride—with my head resting on his shoulder, his head on top of mine with his arms around me—I remembered that he wasn't supposed to know where I lived_ at any cost_. I wasn't _allowed_ let _anybody _know where I lived—where, now, was my home…

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**Okay so there you go! Second chapter…I have no idea how good a job I'm doing of getting the story across… Please, tell me. I really want to know and also I'm kinda starved for reviews. Heehee! **

**Next chapter, if this one gets a thumbs up, will be up soon! Its already written! **

**REVIEW! I don't think this one is as good...but, oh well! I was watching a movie while writing this and I cried buckets...I'm still am!**

**And I was really glad to to see people putting this story on alert..never thought I'd see that in my life! Thanks, thanks so much!**


	4. Chapter 3

CHAPTER_3

I didn't panic though, as I would have before…I stayed calm and buried my face more into Jacob's chest as he held me. "Jake," I whispered, "I don't want to go home."

"Why?" he asked.

"I just don't." I drew myself more into him.

"Bella," he said slowly, " but we have to get you home. You're freezing, you have to warm up. Just tell me where you live; I'll take you there, and take care of you." He didn't mean it romantically, he just said it as it was job to be done.

"But all that stuff you mentioned can happen at you place too." I hate myself.

He finally caught on…but not in the way I was hoping for. "You're trying to hide where you live, again, aren't you? I don't get it honestly! What harm would it do if I knew where you lived!" It would do harm, not just to me but to him too.

"Just take me to your place." I hugged him tighter as he held me. Why did it matter?

Jacob gave in and gave the cab driver his address and rest of the drive passed in silence, but I could tell he was fuming inside. It annoyed him to no end that I wouldn't even trust him enough to give him my address, when he had been nothing but understanding and supportive from the beginning…

_I had been here for a long time now, I was aware of that but I couldn't make myself leave. This was only place that offered me some kind of comfort, solace, a break from the never ending pain…the gnawing pain of loss._

_I gestured the waiter to give me another drink, he obliged instantly. Thanks. This place had become my only escape since…how long ago was it? It didn't matter. Only thing that mattered right now that I had been reduced to nothing but a sad, drunken bitch that had troubles keeping herself upright. I chugged down another shot._

_I felt the seat—stool—beside me move. I didn't bother turning until a voice came from that direction. "Hello."_

_I winced, the sound hurt my head._

"_Hmm," I acknowledged and turned back._

"_I would ask if I could buy you a drink but I see that you have already got that area covered.," he chuckled, a stupid sound._

"_Uh-huh. I like to drink."_

"_So I can see." Stupid sound again._

"_Yeah, well, you _have_ got eyes."_

_He smiled an insanely wide smile. "I'm Jacob."_

"_Bella," I nodded, looking straight, not at him._

"_Bella," he mused, "Are you from Italy?"_

_How _stupid_ can a guy be! "Isabella Swan! My name is Isabella Swan." Not Cullen._

"_Beautiful name."_

"_Thanks," I hissed, and drowned another drink._

_Fortunately the stupid chuckler didn't bother me again while I was there, but he didn't leave either, even though I was there a very long time. _

_I just sat there dumping in drink after drink. After I don't know how long, I got out of my seat and started for home; I had no idea how far it was. As I moved my knees wobbled and threatened to give out underneath me. I somehow made it out of the door. The air outside felt cool—too cool. Chilly. I wrapped my arms around myself and treaded in the chilly weather. Oh, I hate the cold. I kept walking. This was not a nice area, but then again which was? I passed alleys after alleys, all seemed to hold something sinister. I kept walking…until I reached an alley from which noises could be heard… Despite my better judgement I stopped to peer into it…_

_There were four people…A heavy looking man was standing in front of the other three—who seemed to cowering way from him__—_holding an aggressive stance. Oh my! There was a child with them. Now that I looked it seemed that the three were a family…the father, the mom, and the frightened child…I couldn't move now even if I wanted to. I stood there frozen as the burly man hurt the child…hit the mother…and when the father tried to protect them knocked him on to the ground…

_I hadn't realized I had stopped breathing, I drew in a heavy breath. And then it seemed like it was all I can do. I my breaths started coming in shorter and faster. My legs felt weak, and my knees as strong as a sponge. I sagged down, hitting the asphalt with a force._

_Child…He had hurt the child…Hurt the mother…Drew the father away when he tried to help…_

_Oh no! Not again! I could see it coming…and there it was…_

_Colors. Red. Images. Flashes. Pain. Lot of pain…Can't bear…_

_I passed out…

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_

_The surface underneath me felt soft somehow, though I remembered the last time I had…laid down, it wasn't. The air around me smelled…good. I couldn't comprehend that either. I sat upright on the bed—couch?—to inspect my surroundings._

_The room looked subtle and classy with light walls and smart furniture. It seemed like any normal house. And that, right there, was the problem. I wasn't used to normal. I was used to filthy apartment, bad smelling air , noises and noises—not this calming silence. The silence was another problem. _

_And the biggest problem and question was: How in the world did I get here? _

_What was I doing here? What had happened last night? Something bad? Oh, what was I thinking! Of course something bad had happened, other wise how would I end up here. But I couldn't remember anything…Last thing I was able to recall was me staring as the beefy man destroyed a family—a perfect, happy family. Oh God! _

_I was just working myself into a full-blown panic attack when I heard footsteps…Control your breathing, control your breathing, I chanted to myself, You don't want to look scared. _

_But of course I was scared. _

_Step…step…step…_

_I large figure appeared around the corner…and I let out a huge breath I had been holding. But then as the fear faded away, annoyance took its place._

"_Jacob!" I seethed, I was momentarily distracted by how I remembered his name. "What are you _doing_ here?"_

"_Well, I think it would be more appropriate if you asked, what _you _are doing here? Don't you think so?"_

_Well, that _would _have been the more apt question but I didn't want to ask it. I just narrowed my eyes at him. _

"_Okay, okay. I found you in the alley, unconscious, you were not in a state to give me your address so I could drop you at your house so I brought you here. This my home so that is what I'm doing here." Smirk. _

_Ugh! I hate it!_

_I stared at the tray he had brought me. It had all kinds of stuff that would help with a hangover… coffee… juice… other things I couldn't recognize. None of it would help me…my problem was not alcohol. Alcohol was the only escape I had found from my problems. _

"_You're welcome." A voice came, it was somewhat mocking._

"_If you're waiting for me to say thank you; you'll be waiting a long time."_

"_I know. I somehow knew were not the grateful type." Definitely mocking._

"_Thank you," I spat as I reached for the juice. I was thirsty, my throat felt rough. _

"_You're welcome. Always." His voice was not mocking now._

"_So why exactly did you decide to take night time stroll into a dark alley?" He asked, in an uninterested tone._

_My breath caught. " I thought I heard something."_

"_And you thought to investigate it?"_

"_Yeah." Why was I answering him, I answered no one. Well, no body cared enough to ask questions. But just the same I didn't care to answer._

"_And what did you find as a result of your Nancy Drew act?" Who did this guy _think_ he was!_

_But images of last night floated through my brain and stopped, whatever comment I had prepared, on its way. _

"_I saw a guy…a big guy…and a family…a child…and he hurt the kid…Oh my God, Jacob, he hurt him; hurt him so bad…there was blood…streaming out of his cheek…And…and…and I…God, he... the father tried to save him but he shot him in the legs…gun…He already had thrown the mother on to the pavement…she was passed out…She couldn't do anything, even thought she wanted to, she couldn't, because she was unconscious…you see? She couldn't! The father was in so much pain…but he tried…oh God, tried to get to his family but just couldn't make himself…couldn't crawl…And he just…just…just…limp…" I trailed off, with heavy sobs that made any kind of speaking impossible, as I had a much too clear picture of last night's happening in my front of me. I also realized I was not making much sense and was just babbling like a crazy person that I probably was. _

_I looked up at Jacob, tears blurring my vision, shaking from reliving the horrific event._

_His eyes were wide and hurt…it held sympathy, which I didn't like much, and it held concern…care… He looked nearly as haunted as I did_

"_I'm so sorry," he said simply as he hugged me, completely enveloping me. _

_The hug felt weird, as nobody had hugged me in a long while…and certainly not with the tenderness and concern as he was. It was awkward. But as weird and awkward as it did feel, it didn't feel uncomfortable…it was warm. Different. I reveled in the feeling and knew I would not get rid of the stupid chuckler any time soon…_

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**I wanted to stretch out this chapter but this just seemed like a good place to stop…With Jake and Bella becoming "friends", since we were talking about how it all began in this chapter…Hope it was okay! Please keep letting me know if its going okay. Hate it, like it? I'm learning here!**

**P.S. the chapter was not proof read, so there might be words missing...But I just really wanted to post it, as it has been way too long!**

**Review, please...Even just to trash it!**

**Love!**


	5. Chapter 4

**I know, I know...Waaaay too long...So lets just get to the story without any further delays...Excuses later...**

CHAPTER_4

I noticed that while I was lost in memory, we had reached Jacob's home. The cab was parked outside his door. It was too dark—too late. The few lights that illuminated the street were out due to some reason. I saw him blindly take out money and give it to the cab driver. He fumbled with his wallet, when he had given the money he turned to me, and caught me tightly to lift me out of the cab, but I protested. I didn't need to be carried around.

"You, shush!"

He said it with such authority that I shut up.

He dragged me out of the seat and then held me in his arms as he led me to his door. This all felt so wrong even if he didn't mean to be that way…or maybe he did. But this wasn't what it looked like, but I still couldn't push away the feeling of guilt.

Somehow he got the door opened while carrying me. He flipped the light switch…no lights turned on.

Oh. The power was out. This was not a good area and the wiring kept blowing every now and then. Great! He too made an annoyed sound as he led carried me to the bedroom. In all the time I had been over his house—whenever I had run over here to find some peace—by some unspoken agreement I had never slept in his bedroom. I always slept on the couch in the living room, or at my favorite spot in this house: the roof. But now he carried to the bedroom. I didn't like it!

He laid me down on the bed gently, untied my shoes and let them fall to the ground with a faint thud, and then he went to the edge of bed, standing directly opposite to me. I stared at him…What else could I _do_? He stared back too and I could see how hurt he was seeing me in this condition. It pained him to see me in pain—as it would hurt me if he were hurt. He bent down to get the covers and pulled it around me. Then he went out of the room, without another glance back.

I lay back in the bed, blank. I couldn't think of a thing. In my blank state of mind at some point sleep took over me.

That night too, when I woke from a nightmare… shaking and drenched in sweat I sneaked up to the roof to enjoy the cool and refreshing air and Jacob too came up after a while…And, like that, we followed our bizarre routine.

* * *

The next morning when I woke up, unlike last time Jacob was sill there on the couch…

My head throbbed, trying to recollect the happenings of last night.

Then like cars zooming…it all came back…

I was sitting in the club listening to Jacob sing and when I was hit with the memories; the beautiful haunting memories…And I had ran out, to a bridge. I had not know any way of getting home and then Jacob had come to my rescue…I remembered the awkward encounter in his bedroom-Damn!—and then finally we were here…

Jacob stirred, waking up...

He insisted that since he was here today he would drop, but obviously it didn't agree with my rules so it was decided that he would drop me at a certain crossing that would not give me away and still get me as near to the house as possible.

We were downstairs now; drinking coffee like it was an age-old routine for us. He moved around me with ease as I sat by the kitchen isle… After a while he was ready to go…to work?

I didn't know where he worked, or _if _he worked. Was singing his only job or did he do it for his own gratification. As I thought I realized I really didn't know much about him. Hmm.

"Ready?" Jacob's voice broke my reverie.

"What do _I _need to be ready for?"

He looked at me oddly then gave up and went for the door. His bike—yes, bike—was parked by the door. He started the machine and called for me.

"Bella?"

"Yeah, coming." I got up form my perch and went outside closing the door behind me. He tossed me the key

"Lock it."

I did as he said. And took my seat on the bike and we started for the decided location.

He dropped me off at the fork and turned his bike around to go to…where? This question was still nagging in my brain. Anyway, I would forget about that right now and ask him later. And when I did I'd have to have no expectations of answers. After all even I had not told him anything…but my situation was different. It was extremely dangerous for me to share any information.

I walked to my home…which contrary to what Jacob thought, was very, very far from here…

By the time I reached home I was exhausted in every way. My legs ached from walking so long, my breathing a little labored, a fine sheen of sweat coating me.

I put the key in the lock, my head resting on the hard door for support.

As I got inside the house the phone started ringing, the ring sounding extremely loud in the otherwise silent house…and I was suddenly filled with joy I had not felt in forever. It was an all-consuming happiness. So strong that it threatened to knock me down. I ran to the phone as all the exhaustion was forgotten; I just ran.

When I reached the phone that was outside my bedroom I was panting heavily.

"Hello." My voice full hope of hope and anticipation. I didn't want it to be anybody else!

There was a small sigh on the other end.

"Hello? Hello, Edward?" I knew it was him.

"You were not home last night."

I closed my eyes. It had been too long since I had heard his sweet, velvety voice. It was music to me. I was lost in it, feeling it every inch of my body. I was under.

I was so lost in the pure perfection of his voice that I had not registered what he had said.

_You were not home last night_. What did that mean? That he had called last night too, and I wasn't here to receive it? Oh God! I was sad. But then that sadness was replaced by anger almost instantly. Of course I wasn't home last night. Who was there waiting for me? No one! Who was there to worry over me? No one! For whom would I care to come home? No one! There was no one that cared.

"There is no one."

"What?" He asked slowly.

"Who is there waiting for me at home?" I repeated my earlier thought to him.

"Bella…Please tell me you're being careful. That you're not putting yourself in unnecessary danger?"

"I'm okay."

He sighed. "You know why this has to be this way." He was frustrated. With what? With me, or with the situation?

"Do I? Do I really? I don't because you never really bothered to explain it to me properly! You just locked me inside these four walls and left—left with no promise of returning ever. It's not fair to me! I don't deserve this!" I yelled at him, I felt bad for taking it all out on him—he had called in a such a long time—but that right there was the problem, and I was too mad. I just couldn't control it, it was all coming out word by word. "Who is there waiting for me at home, Edward? Tell me! No one—you're not _here_. You're not here to care if I'm dead or alive, if come home at night or not, whether I'm drowning myself in alcohol or not!"

There was a long, agonized sigh on the other end. "I care," I heard then. His was so muted that I almost didn't hear it.

"How do I know? How do I know that you even have one ounce of love left for me?" This was all so very wrong. I knew he loved me; very much. He had never loved anyone but me; he hadn't been able to. And I was hurting so much by my words, it broke my heart, but like watching the scene unfold from outside, I couldn't do anything to change it. So I continued. "All I get from you is one phone call a week, for which I wait every second, and nothing else. I don't know where you are! Whether you are safe or not, hurt or okay! Do you have any idea how I survive the rest six days, worrying over you, and hoping that I get another phone call and that the next time I talk to you, not be the last time!"

"I'm sorry." He said simply. "I love you…_so much_" he said with such fervor that I couldn't do anything but believe him. Believe that he cared.

And that was it. I couldn't listen to him telling me he loved me still. It was beyond my power to bear. I picked up the phone in both my hands and smashed it hard on to the floor. It shattered into satisfying pieces, attaining the same state as my heart. Now I was no longer able to hear his beautiful voice, saying those hurting, beautiful words and there was pain creeping back up already. As much I had been mad while talking to him, it had felt like _us _again, having any other argument, never mind what we were fighting about, but that had almost felt normal; like any other couple having a fight. But now—now I was painfully aware of how not normal we were. And the pain pulled me under, drowning me.

* * *

I was sitting at the window seat, doing what else—drinking. Staring at the locket in my hand that held the picture of the most beautiful face that had ever existed. I was gazing at the picture as I literally drank my sorrow. With my eyes locked on the pendant, I raised the bottle for another sip but I tasted none of the burning fluid on my tongue. The bottle was empty. On top of everything that had happened today, this was just perfect!

I _needed_ the alcohol. I needed it _right this second_. I felt like was losing my mind, my already wet eyes sprang up new tears. I was losing my mind. I ran as agitated hand through my hair tugging at the ends, trying to produce pain. I looked around in sheer desperation for anything that would smother burn inside me. Nothing.

"Arghh," I screamed at nothing in particular. I screamed again and again till my throat burned! It was freeing. Why wasn't there any whisky in this house! I was an alcoholic after all.

I ventured outside, there was trashcan nearby, full of bottles thrown out by me and nothing else. I scoured it, hoping to find even one drop of, what had become my life line. It was all empty—_empty_. All of it! Argh!

It was chilly outside so I turned to go back into the house. Reaching the door I turned the doorknob, it didn't budge. I tried again—nothing. I shook it, taking all my frustration on it, though I knew it was jammed and wouldn't move an inch no matter what I do. This was just going great.

And then when without even thinking about it I walked to the house of the only friend I had in the this whole world—my best friend, who loved me for some unfathomable reason. For whom I was starting to develop a whole new kind of addiction, very different to my addiction to alcohol.

I knocked on his door, I don't know how loud a sound came. And why wasn't I using the doorbell? God knows.

He opened the door a little bit, the chain on the door still in place. I could see a part of his head through the little opening.

I peeked through the slight opening. "Can I get a little—" I held up my thumb and index finger to indicate 'little', —"whiskey?"

He sighed heavily as he took in my condition, and unhooked the chain to open the door wide.

* * *

I was on the roof—_again_. It must seem I like I end up here too often but this was the only place that offered me a feeling of at-least pseudo freedom. It overlooked the whole of Seattle, all of its lighting shining like stars on the black sky, making me feel free…like a bird…The wind blowing uninhibitedly, touching my face, my cheek—caressing it. The dew saturating in my hair my slowly, calming me, refreshing me, giving me a new life like I was a flower. Away from the dirty mess that was my life now.

Jacob came up the stairs behind me, I turned to see him carrying two glasses and a bottle in a tray. I smiled, thanking him.

Tonight I was on the worn out couch and Jake took my usual spot, laying on the ground, while I drank from the bottle he had brought up—the glasses all forgotten. We stayed like this a long time. It was silent except the sound of liquid sloshing against the glass, and the faint rustle of wind blowing. Jacob calmly gazed at the sky, both of us lost in thoughts...It was so relaxing and was enjoying the feeling.

Suddenly, Jacob sprang up to a sitting position, a kind of determined look on his face.

"Why do you drink so much?"

I snorted and chugged down another mouthful. I couldn't explain this…

Jacob had always wanted to know where I got this habit—addiction—from. I had never really told him, just blaming it on the pain of the past, which was true, but never the whole story.

But tonight, with Edward's phone call such a recent event, my wounds were open, bleeding again. And I was greedy, desperate to accept any medication and at the time it seemed like talking to Jacob about it was the best cure. So I accepted it, even it might prove fatal—for both of us…

Tonight I was ready to let it all out, tonight I wanted _talk _about the pain I had never talked about, but had kept it locked away in the prison of my heart…

Tonight I would tell my best friend everything—the joy, the immense happiness and feeling of being whole, the pain, the loss, the pain of being cut into half… Everything…

* * *

**Sooooo…There it is… I know it took ages but it has been very busy lately…School…Finals… A lot of work… **

**Do I have any readers, still? Hehehe!**

**I wrote this chapter in bits and pieces, whenever I got time from studying, so I'm very sorry if this is a little choppy…and BAD…**

**Anywhoo…So Bella is gonna tell her story…Are you guys interested in hearing it? Tell me! Reviews are best way to show me some love…or hate…**

**P.S I have an one-shot up…Its an I.C one…Check it out…**


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